Masks
by pookenstein
Summary: WIP A blind ranger becomes a reluctant heroine. Loosely follows the OC. Please Note: Bishop will NOT be watered down in this one (for a taste, read my short piece The Flute). Things will get awfully dark...
1. Battle of West Harbour

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for reading. I noticed that most people begin their telling of the tale when the KC walks into the Flagon. This works great because it gets into the "meat" of the story so I can totally understand why. I decided to start at the very beginning. I felt it was important with this particular character because she's kind of a hard nut to crack. I honestly feel that if I don't start at the beginning, it will be difficult to have any sympathy for her. My other, more selfish, reason is that I haven't written in a long time, and I am hoping this will help me hone my skill again. I sorely miss telling a good tale. So please, whether you like the story or not, please leave a review telling me why or why not. It will be immensely helpful to me as I hone my craft. Thanks a bunch everyone!**

***

Thea's eyes snapped open. Disoriented, the lingering sound of a scream ringing in her ears, she sat up. Her heart pounded in her chest like a blacksmith's hammer. _Nightmares again. _ Perhaps she would take Daeghun's advice this time along with the tonic he had offered. Brom shuddered anxiously on his perch near the window. She made a soothing sound at him. _Must have cried out in my sleep._ But the scream came again, sounding far away, followed by the thud of heavy boots in the soft soil. Someone was running frantically past the house.

She scrambled from bed. Without thinking, she pulled the leather mask from its place next to her pillow and pulled it on. Lifting one of her scimitars from its scabbard, she went to investigate. Daeghun was coming out of his room as well. The loose linen pants he wore made a soft hiss as he moved. Thea could smell sleep thick upon him.

"West Harbor is under attack!" The voice sounded far away, but the unmistakable sound of something exploding made her start.

"By the gods…" she whispered.

"Get your armor." Without another word, Daeghun disappeared into his room. She could hear the muffled creak of leather being moved and buckles being clasped.

She hesitated. Perhaps this was some kind of joke? Who in the hells would want to attack West Harbor? It made no sense. As she turned to her room, the front door burst open. She instantly smelled the familiar scent of Bevil's militia armor on the accompanying night wind and heard the heavy thud of his boots as he half stumbled in. "Thea, hurry! Get – get your armor, get weapons!" he panted. "We're under attack! I need to warn the others!" Then he disappeared into the night, leaving the door slightly ajar in his haste.

Thea hurried to her room. With shaking hands she pulled the leather armor from its place on the chair and quickly pulled it on over her bedclothes. She buckled the scabbards to her belt. The familiar weight of the scimitars on her hips was somehow comforting. Her mind raced. This made no sense but there was no time think about it. Brom shuddered again and made a quiet chirp. She could hear his claws click against his perch as he moved about nervously.

As she reached for her bow, she was assailed by a strange pungent odor and the sound of unfamiliar footsteps on the wooden floor. She darted behind her door, listening to the heavy footfalls make their way slowly down the hall toward her room. Her breathing sounded loud in her ears and she struggled to grasp how close it was, or even _what_ it was. This was no lizardman, nor orc. She had never smelled anything like the dry musty odor that met her nostrils.

The footfalls moved cautiously. By their sound, she could tell that whatever this thing was, it was much heavier than she. She could feel its position in space, where the smell and the sounds combined, like heaviness in the air. It would be near the hanging mirror now; two or three steps would bring it to her door. She tried to block out the sounds of screams outside her window and concentrated instead on the subtle creaking of the floorboards as the thing shifted its weight to take another step. With her hands on her weapons, she waited.

But it never made it to her door. She barely heard the softest rasp of leather, the quietest whisper of a bowstring being drawn, before the heavy thud of an arrow hitting home was loud in her ears.

"Thea?" It was Daeghun's voice.

"I'm here!" She came out from behind the door. The sound of Brom's wings filled the air and he settled on her arm. "What in the nine hells are they?"

"There's no time. Let's go."

They darted through the door of their home and into the damp night. She could hear the steady flutter of fire from somewhere to her left, where the barn stood. The waves of heat that radiated from it ebbed and flowed with the wind. The thick smoke, heavier than the surrounding air, was settling low, choking them. Her eyes stung. Brom moved up to her shoulder, his claws finding their usual purchase in the leather.

Suddenly, under the smoke, that strange odor. Daeghun's lessons were not in vain. In one fluid movement, Thea slipped an arrow from the quiver on her back, knocked it, and let it fly. Her slightly pointed ears twitched as she married sound and smell, finding her targets through the thick black smoke.

Somewhere between the frenzy of arrows and the clanging sounds of battle, Thea realized she could no longer feel Daeghun next to her. Ahead of her, a scream cut through the chaos. _Amie!_ She moved through the smoke toward the origin of the cry, the low heavy fluttering of fire and the creaking of falling timber vibrating around her senses.

_Find Bevil and Amie!_ No sooner had Thea sent the command to Brom than he pushed from her shoulder, the sound of his wings disappearing into the smoke. She followed Brom's cries to the bridge where the sound of metal ringing against metal greeted her. She could hear Amie's voice, rising and falling rhythmically as she called out her incantations. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and blood.

"Thea! Thank the gods!" Bevil cried out when he saw her, his longsword cutting through the thick air with a _whoosh_ as he fought. "They're in the house! Go to the house!"

One quick motion from her hand and Brom was diving out of the sky to help her friends. Thea ran to the house, heart thudding madly in her chest, fearful of what she would find.

The door was partly open. Knocking an arrow, she put her nose near the opening and sniffed. She could hear Bevil's mother, Retta, crying. A dry throaty voice said, "The shiny thing! Tell us where it is!"

The Starling's hunting hounds growled menacingly at the creature. She could hear the vibrations in their chests, the wetness of their jaws as they bared their teeth at the intruders.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Retta pleaded.

From the sound of the creature's voice, Thea could tell it faced away from her. Retta's sobs placed her to the right. The arrow found its mark with a soft _thwack_. The creature gurgled. Its foot tapped against the wood floor, once, twice, and it was still. She slipped inside.

Retta's voice was tight with terror. "The children! They're hiding! Those things, there are more of them!" Thea felt Retta's frantic gesture disturb the air. "They went into the living room!"

"How many?"

"I don't know, gods, I don't know!"

Thea made her way to the door and listened. She could hear the creatures' raspy voices speaking some guttural language she could not understand. The floorboards creaked under their movements. Carefully, her mind picked out the differences in the sounds. Three….no, four of them. At least. Her mind raced. She knew she had the advantage of surprise but that would only last for a few moments.

Then Amie's voice: "Thea!" She smelled Amie's unique smell, a mixture of sweet herbs and bitter chemicals, tinged with blood. Then Bevil's smell mixed in. She felt them at the door.

"The kids?" Bevil whispered anxiously.

"Hiding." From the living room, they could hear the sounds of books hitting the floor. Thea nodded at the living room door.

"How many?" he asked.

"Three or four…"

"Send in the dogs first," Amie said. "Confuse them."

Bevil gathered the hounds. With a mental count of three, Thea whipped open the door and the dogs went tearing inside, snarling. All hell broke lose. Bevil charged in, his longsword meeting the steel of one of the creature's blades. Amie's voice rang loud and strong in the confines of the library as the power of her words transformed into bolts of energy. One of the creatures squealed as the magical bolts slammed into it, sizzling against its skin. It hit the opposite wall sending books crashing to the floor.

Thea's ears twitched as she separated sounds and smells, friend and foe. She felt the presence of one of the creatures, too close for her bow, coming low and fast. No time even to pull the scimitar from its sheath, she jabbed it in the eye with the arrow she had readied. It squealed and reeled into a small piece of furniture but regained its balance and with a raspy growl, threw itself at her, knocking her to the ground. She reached for the small scabbard at her belt that held her skinning knife but the creature grappled her, pinning her arms. Its dry papery skin smelled of dank places, of mold and festering, brackish water. She fought back a wave of nausea as its face touched hers and its fetid breath filled her senses. Then a sharp pain blazed through her midsection like fire. She had never felt anything like it. White-hot and overwhelming, the pain radiated out in a spider-web of agony.

She heard Amie cry out. Then the weight of the creature's body was gone. Unable to concentrate on anything but the bright hot pain, Thea squeezed her hand against the wound. Warm blood trickled between her fingers. It hurt to take a breath. The sounds around her, so sharp only a moment before, now seemed to be coming from a great distance away. She heard Bevil say her name once before pain cut the last thread of consciousness.


	2. A Task Given

"I don't care what Daeghun said, dammit!" Bevil's angry voice was directly above her. "She can't possibly breathe in that thing! Take it off!"

"Bevil, I understand your concern but- ah, she's awake." From the sound of Brother Merring's voice, Thea could tell he was across the room.

The voices were the first thing she became aware of, then the sound of water being wrung from a cloth and trickling into a basin. Incense was like a soft undercurrent in the air. _I must be in the church_. Instinctively, she touched her face. Her fingers met with the mask's warm, supple leather. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a shaky breath.

She tried to swallow but her mouth was as dry as sand. Brom's presence was close but she could not hear him. "What happened?"

"You received an injury. Bevil brought you here. "

"The attack-"

"-is over now. Georg and the others were able to hold them back."

She tried to sit up. Every limb ached in stiff protest. Then Bevil's arms were around her, helping her up. "Thirsty…" she croaked.

"I will get you some water," the priest said. A moment later, she felt a flask being gently pressed into her hands. She turned her back to them, pulling down the mask enough to take a long, desperate drink. Once her thirst was sated, she pulled the mask over her face again. Her eyes still stung from the smoke. "Did you take off my mask? While I was -?"

"No," Brother Merring replied quickly. "Your father made it clear that I was not to touch it."

She gave a quick nod, touching her midsection where the wound had been. Her fingers met a long gash in the leather, wide enough that she could place her entire hand in it. The leather felt stiff with blood but the skin was intact. "Where is everyone?"

"Probably in the main chamber, tending to the wounded," Bevil replied. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit… dizzy." She made an attempt to stand. Bevil held her arms, letting her lean against him. She was surprised her legs only wobbled a little. "I'll live."

"Daeghun wished to speak with you when you awoke," the priest told her. "He said it was urgent."

Though Bevil said nothing, she could feel him stiffen with anger.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked.

"He and a few others are making a sweep around the village," he replied. "I last saw him by the Starling farm."

She nodded and gently pulled away from Bevil's sturdy grasp. Together, they traversed the long hall that lead to the main chamber.

Halfway down the hall, Bevil gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Thea," he said softly, his voice heavy with grief. "Amie … she didn't make it."

For a moment, there was no emotion at all. His words seemed to hang in the air, unanchored, devoid of any meaning. Then the slow realization began to settle in and her heart gave a painful lurch. _Amie couldn't be gone, could she?_ For one terrible moment, Thea thought her legs would simply give out. She leaned against the wall. Somehow, she remained standing, stiff with suppressed grief. Her lips, pressed to a tight line, were hidden by the mask.

"When you got … hurt…she tried to pull that thing off of you and…."

"Please don't," She held up a hand to stop his words then put her forehead to the wall. It felt cool against her skin.

"I'm so glad you're all right," he said softly. "I don't know what I would do if you were gone too…"

"We need to find Daeghun…"

"Why? Thea, you need to be able to grieve! Daeghun needs to understand that. I don't know why you feel you have to be at his beck and call!"

She angrily pushed away from the wall and made her way to the main chamber. As soon as she opened the door, the moans of the wounded immediately filled her head. They seemed to pulse against her, thick and desperate. The smell of blood mixed with the bitter bite of medicinal herbs and the faint charged odor of magic. The smell was almost overpowering. She willed her senses to move beyond it, searching for the familiar scent of her foster-father.

Once outside, Brom landed on her arm, startling Bevil. Away from the oppressive stench of the dying, it was easier to find Daeghun's trail. She followed it along the path to Tarmas's home, with Bevil following sullenly behind her. It was not long before she heard Daeghun's monotone voice.

"That will have to do."

"Ah, she's up." She instantly recognized Tarmas's voice. "I'm sure you have much to say to each other so I'll take my leave."

She heard Deaghun's feather-light footfalls on the packed earth of the path coming toward her. Then his hand was around her forearm as he led her away where they could speak privately.

"Thea, it is good to see you well. Many others have not been so fortunate – and others have seen their final night." He paused. "I understand you lost a friend of yours in the attack."

She turned her face away from him and simply nodded.

Daeghun gently laid his hand on her shoulder. It was all the comfort he could give. "Do not burden your resolve by dwelling on loss. Direct your thoughts to the present. I do not have much time to talk; I must leave to attend to the wounded. There is something you must do. _Tonight_. Those creatures were here to find something, and I fear I know what."

"What could they possibly be looking for _here_?"

"There is an item…a silver shard. Long ago, I concealed it in the old stones outside of town. I fear it may have drawn those creatures down upon us. In the corner chamber of the eastern-most structure, look for a strongbox – inside is the shard. There remains only one thing: you should not go alone. Take Bevil with you."

"Why did you hide the shard in the ruins?"

"We can speak more of the shard when you return. For now, all that matters is its retrieval. Bevil," Daeghun motioned for him to join them. "I need you to accompany my daughter to the ruins. This is an important task."

"But Georg says that ruins have been overrun by lizardling tribes-"

"And that is why you must go. Together, two can succeed where one might fail." His tone left no room for argument. "Return to me when you have done as I have asked." With that, Daeghun walked away toward the church and the cries of the wounded.

"No offense meant, but your father makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up."

For a moment, Thea stood there, breathing in the cool night air. "He's doing what has to be done," she said in a surprisingly steady voice. "As should we. Let's go."


	3. Into the Swamp

The darkness of the Mere was irrelevant to the ranger: her other senses told her everything she needed to know to navigate through the soggy wetlands. She had come here many times before and was familiar with the ruins Daeghun had spoken of. Bevil, on the other hand, stumbled and slipped in the slick mud until she finally allowed him the smallest of torches. The flame did not illuminate much. In fact, the sharp shadows it threw about the small circle of light did more to confuse the boy's feet than to help him. Finally, Thea had insisted that he simply hold onto her shoulders and allow her to lead.

"This is too much for me," he whispered softly against the incessant chirping of insects. "Amie's _dead_, the village is in _flames_, and now here we are in the swamp looking for _ruins_."

Thea said nothing. Dark thoughts flittered about her mind, threatening to unsettle her. Everything was going to change. She wasn't sure how, she could not even imagine what it meant. But she knew that her life was about to shift onto some course of which she knew nothing and over which she had no control. She pushed the thoughts away roughly and, instead focused on getting them in and out of the Mere as quickly and quietly as possible. Above, Brom circled the area, his sharp eyes searching for any sign of lizardmen.

"I always thought I wanted to be an adventurer, you know?" Bevil continued. "Travelling the world, living by my sword…With everything that's happened tonight though, I think my place is in West Harbor. Adventuring is all fine and glorious but someone still needs to stay home and care for the families." He paused. "What about you? "

"What about me?"

"Ever thought of leaving? Becoming an adventurer?"

"Never really gave it much thought." The fact was, she _had_ thought of leaving, and often, but not to become an adventurer. Adventuring involved people: dealing with them, working with them, answering their endless questions, dealing with their incessant stares. No, her thoughts of escape involved her and Brom and endless tracts of wilderness. She suspected she was nearing the end of her lessons with Daeghun, or more like the end of his patience with her. These last few years he had become more distant than ever. Still, she remained at West Harbor. She did not like to think too much about the reasons why.

"I guess I still have a lot to learn about you. Our village has always seemed a bit too, well, _small_ for you. I don't know."

At her sudden stop, Bevil bumped into her. Startled, his grip on her shoulders tightened. "You know me more than anyone_,_" she said softly, over her shoulder. "Now be quiet. Every time you speak you give away our location."

The ruins appeared gradually under their feet. At first, only a moss-covered pillar here and there but as they progressed they began finding crumbling buildings half-sunk in the muck of the swamp. Here, the branches drooped across their path like long feathery tendrils. More than once, she felt poor Bevil startle as leaves or insects brushed across his face.

Once they'd found the ruins, Brom settled on Thea's shoulder, his weight a comfort. "Eastern-most structure," she said softly, more to herself than to her companion. "This is as far east as I know without leaving the area altogether."

Much to Bevil's obvious relief, they had reached a clearing. He had stopped stumbling around so Thea figured that the moon was bright enough here for him to see now. She marveled that sight was considered necessary at all. It seemed more limiting than useful. But then, maybe that was only because most people were so dependent on it.

"There's a building over here," Bevil said. Even though she hadn't been to this part of the mere in a long time, she remembered the structure he spoke of. She motioned for him to wait. There was something different about it now and she realized that the smell of the lizardmen was too strong here. Their tribes had made the mere their home since long before she was born, and she often could catch their scent on the air. But this place was thick with the smell. She suspected they now inhabited this part of the ruins. This would make retrieving the shard difficult. But she would not return to Daeghun empty-handed.

"We're going to have to go inside, aren't we?" Bevil said nervously.

"Yes." She moved ahead of him, placing herself in the lead once more. "I need you to be really quiet, all right?" She took a step into the old structure but then hesitated, adding: "Keep your sword at the ready."

Inside, the smell of lit torches confirmed her suspicions. They made their way through the complex tangle of corridors that Thea vaguely remembered exploring years ago. Though her memory was mostly accurate, here and there the halls had collapsed forcing them to find an alternate path.

It was down one of these alternate paths that she heard the clicking of claws against the stones. She signaled for Bevil to stop and listened. The sound was coming from ahead and to the right. Two sets of footsteps. The hallway was narrow but there was an opening a few yards behind them, little more than an indentation in the wall. She motioned for Bevil to follow her and they pressed themselves flat into the opening. A cold knot of fear curled in her belly. She knew that if the patrol decided to turn and come down this corridor, they would be seen. That meant they would have to fight, and if they fought, that meant noise, noise that could bring others, too many for them to fend off. A rivulet of sweat made its way down her temple as she waited to see which direction the sound of clawed feet would go.

She heard them turn, coming toward her. The cold knot of fear wound tighter. Against her shoulder, Brom was very still. She tensed, readying herself for the fight. They had to take the patrol down quickly. A few more steps and they would be seen.

Thea gave a silent command to Brom. The hawk launched itself into the hallway toward the patrol. There was a commotion of sound: Brom's piercing shrieks, the powerful flap of his wings, and the frantic cries of surprise as the lizardmen attempted to dodge the hawk's sharp claws. She gave Bevil a tap on the chest with the back of her hand to let him know it was their turn, then she exploded out of the hiding place, simultaneously pulling the scimitars from their scabbards and attacking the rightmost foe.

Her first jab was parried, as she knew it would be. The vibration that traveled up her arm from the impact told her that her weapon had struck something long and thin: a spear. She would need to remain close to keep him from using the full range of that weapon.

He brought the bottom of the spear up, hitting her right forearm with surprising force. Her fingers went numb and for a moment she thought the sword would fall from her hand. But feeling returned and she held onto the hilt fiercely. Her entire arm throbbed down to the bone. She heard him take a step back, trying to put more distance between them so he could use the spear more effectively. Ignoring the pain in her right arm, she scattered the jabs, keeping him focused on anticipating her next strike while she positioned herself.

He hissed as the blade cut into the meat of his shoulder, then surprised her by whipping his long thick tail under her feet. She barely managed to avoid it, but she heard Bevil cry out in surprise and hit the stone floor hard.

_No!_ She brought her blades to barely above waist height and gave Brom one command: _Up!_ Then she swung her blades in a deadly spin, turning her entire body around with the force of the swing.

The first scimitar hit the side of Bevil's opponent just below the armpit. She felt some resistance as it cut through thick muscle but the sharp blade continued on its deadly path, scraping the stone wall and clanging against the metal of her opponent's spear. Behind her, she heard the second lizardman stagger and hit the ground. A moment later, a horrible wet noise told her Bevil had finished him off.

Now all her attention was on her opponent. She brought the second blade in at an angle and managed to catch him across the stomach, but not deeply. He staggered back. Bevil was coming up to join her. Together, they should be able to kill him with ease. The lizardman must have realized this for he began to run away.

She heard Bevil cry out, "No!" as they gave chase, then heard the sound that she most feared: some kind of horn. He was alerting the others.

She felt more than heard Bevil take a flying leap at the lizardman. The two of them went down hard, rolling in the narrow hallway. A horrible meaty sound met her ears, the sound of a blade hitting home. Then the commotion stopped and there was only ragged breathing.

"Bevil?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice. "Are you all right?"

It seemed an eternity passed before she heard his voice, exhausted but strong: "Yeah. What are we going to do now?"

"We need to find that shard. It's not far."

"To the nine hells with Daeghun, Thea!" She heard him getting up, wincing. "I'm not going to die to bring back some godforsaken-"

"Shhh!" Thea's ears twitched. The silence was eerie and full of anticipation, broken only by Bevil's ragged breaths. There was something a moment ago, _something_…Then she heard it again: the low long ominous bellow of an answering horn.


	4. Tunnel Vision

Thea ran through the labyrinthian tunnels, breath like an ice shard in her throat, with Bevil close on her heels. Now and then they could hear the low tone of the horns, always sounding closer.

She heard Bevil let out a startled breath as Brom glided silently to her outstretched arm. She stopped as the hawk relayed information to her. "There are more of them up ahead," she told Bevil, her voice breathless but firm. She had suspected as much from the steady beat of drums that pulsed against her senses from that direction. It had been growing steadily louder.

She had to _think_. There had to be another way out. She vaguely remembered another passage that led to the surface. _Gods, this place is a maze_. She forced her racing mind to focus.

Behind them, the deep timbre of the horn rang again. She could now make out the chittery sound of claws against the stone.

"This way." She _had_ to find it. There was really nothing else they could do. Frantically, they zigzagged through the tunnels. If they were going to die, she'd be damned if they would do it while standing around paralyzed with indecision.

_Gods, where is it? Where is it? _ She knew she should be able to smell fresh air by now. The only thing she smelled was the dank odor of wet stone. Something was _wrong_. The next turn confirmed it. She felt the wall of collapsed rock even as Bevil let out a curse. She heard him slap his hand desperately against the wall. His ragged breathing spoke more of fear than fatigue.

"We're trapped," he said anxiously. He was looking to her to make a decision. She could feel his helpless stare. The stench of his fear was like a cloud. How in the hells was she supposed to know what to do? _I should never have brought him down here_, she thought as guilt raked at her heart. _ I should have told him to stay up there, told him to keep watch or something…_

A strange whistling made them both whip around, weapons half drawn, just in time to meet the sting of darts. She heard Bevil cry out just before the sharp bite in her thigh and the accompanying numbness knocked her to her knees. She grabbed her leg, a useless gesture since she could already feel the warmth of the poison moving through her blood. Her last thought as the sounds around her faded was the fervent hope that Brom had escaped.

***

She first became aware of something wet and cold against her temple. Then the slow and steady ache of her body. _So, I'm alive then._ With relief, she realized she still wore the mask. She tried to move her fingers and they seemed to respond. She tried wiggling her toes. They also responded. Slowly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Her mind was still in a fog. It was difficult to gauge where she was. She could hear the lizardfolk close by. The clicks of their claws against the stone floor and the quiet hiss of their conversations were muffled by some kind of wooden structure, probably a door. Propping herself up against the wall, she concentrated on getting her bearings.

Bevil was here. She could smell him nearby. The space around her felt much like the tunnels. She suspected they were still below in the catacombs somewhere. Almost as an afterthought, she felt for her weapons and cursed. They were gone. _Hells!_

But this wasn't over yet. As long as they weren't dead, they had a chance. Brom was nowhere near but she took comfort knowing the bond between them was not broken. He had gotten away somehow.

She wasn't sure what Daeghun had been thinking sending Bevil with her. It would have been easier coming alone. She gave a mental sigh. She loved her friend dearly, but he was not cut out for this kind of thing. Now he was trapped here with her, and the weight of guilt lay heavy on her heart. Decisions were more easily made when you were the only one who need suffer the consequences.

She heard Bevil groan as he woke. "Thea…?"

"I'm here," she said softly. She scooted over to him and helped him sit up.

"_Gods_, my _head_." He rubbed his temple. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, then more quietly: "They're just outside the door. Not sure if they can understand us."

He slumped against the stone wall. "Wonderful."

"Bevil, I'm sorry about this-"

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. It wasn't _you_ who sent us on this fool's errand."

"Daeghun would not have sent us if it wasn't important."

"Why do you always defend him?" he whispered fiercely at her.

"And why do you always attack him? Look, there's more going on here than some simple raid. Do you really think those things just chose us at random? They were looking for something."

"I'm not an idiot," he said angrily. "You think I didn't figure that out already?" He fumbled about for his weapons and let out a low curse at their absence.

"Then stop acting like one," she whispered back just as angrily. She was unaccustomed to this side of him. This was no time for anger or despair. They had to think of something and fast.

"I didn't think this was how I was going to die," Bevil said quietly.

"We're _not_ dead yet. And they left our armor on."

"And your mask." His tone was unreadable. After a moment, he added: "I'll never understand why you let him put that thing on you."

She didn't know what to say so she remained quiet. This was a subject she thought he understood was off limits.

"What happened - with Lorne - it wasn't your fault. Don't let Daeghun blame you for -"

"Bevil," she warned. "Don't."

"Please, just let me say this-"

"No!" The word exploded out, so desperate a sound that she could scarcely believe it had come from her.

"Tell me this," he said, turning toward her. "There's a chance we won't get out of here alive, isn't there?"

"There's also a chance we _will_."

"I _need_ to tell you this. In case it goes the other way."

Thea turned her face away, heart racing. He must have taken her silence as acquiescence because he went on: "It wasn't your fault. I don't care what anyone says. I don't care about your face or any of that. I _never_ blamed you, okay? I just need you to understand that I never blamed you. And that I loved … that I _love _you."

She felt his hand on her shoulder. At his soft hesitant touch, her chest painfully constricted as if the weight of the entire ruins sat atop her heart.

"I'm not expecting you to say anything to that. I just …wanted you to know. In case I don't get a chance to tell you."

She nodded, still unable to meet his gaze. After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the door opening saved her. She was almost grateful.


	5. In the Heart

They were pushed and prodded down several narrow corridors, hands tied behind their backs, before being brought to a room that was much larger than any they had encountered in the ruins yet. She could barely feel the stone walls around her. Underneath a sweet piney incense, the somewhat fishy smell of the lizardmen still hung like a low fog.

The sound of the lizardfolk's voices became more frenzied as Thea and Bevil were brought before the one that was, presumably, the leader. She heard the clattering of beads as he gestured. The voices around them fell silent. To her surprise, he spoke the common tongue.

"I know of you, _warmblood. _The spirits have whispered of you in my meditations. You have come to claim _this_, have you not?"

"He's got the shard, "Bevil whispered fiercely to her.

Thea's heart raced. She was not sure how to play this. She tried to think of something clever, but her mind was blank with fear. With a mental shrug, she simply told the truth: "Yes."

"The spirits tell me this item holds great power," he said. "It also holds great suffering. They tell me you are destined to carry this burden. With it, you will find your three names: the name you are known by, the name that defines your destiny, and the name that defines your character. This shard, it will be connected to all your names."

The whisper of cloth told her the chieftain had stood. Around them, the hissing whispers began again.

"I understand," she said softly, not understanding at all. Whatever the spirits said of this shard would not matter. She would bring the shard to her father and that would be the end of it. Still, his predictions felt left her feeling strangely ominous.

"_Yes_, I believe you are the one…" the chieftain said quietly, as if to himself. "Still, we must be sure." She heard his footfalls as he approached. He smelled of incense and herbs and the musty dank of the swamp. As he neared, Thea felt a sudden, strange _tugging_ sensation in her chest. All around, the lizardfolk gasped and surged away. Even Bevil gave a startled cry. _What in the hells was happening?_

The tugging in her chest became excruciating. It was as if her heart was trying to break free of her torso. She fell to her knees, writhing in agony. Bevil cried out her name as she lost her balance and toppled to her side. The pain subsided as the chieftain moved away from her. She lay on the stony ground, panting heavily.

For what seemed like an eternity, the room buzzed with the frantic voices of the lizardfolk. No one dared get close. She heard the chieftain shout something in an unfamiliar tongue and the room went eerily quiet. She was suddenly being lifted unsteadily to her feet.

She could feel the chieftain's gaze heavy upon her.

"You will have a choice to make soon, a choice that will affect my people. Remember as you make that choice that you were not harmed here." After a pause, he said: "Give the shard to the male."

After a moment, she was grabbed roughly and shoved in the direction they had come. As they were marched out of the catacombs, all Thea could think was that she had some _serious_ questions for her foster-father. And this time, he'd better answer.

***

_Swamp air never smelled so good_, Thea thought as she and Bevil were unceremoniously shoved out into the Mere. As they walked through the mud, she rubbed the place where the leather bonds had chafed her skin, taking care to stay far enough from Bevil to avoid the horrible tugging that shard seemed to cause. It was nearly morning. Bevil was uncharacteristically silent as he plodded next to her.

Once they were far enough away from the ruins, Thea gave a sharp whistle along with a mental call to her feathered friend.

_Thea!_

_Brom, I'm so glad you're alright!_

_I have your father with me…_

She gave a mental groan that was not lost on her friend.

_I had to! I wasn't going to leave you down there no matter what you told me to do._

_Just him?_

_Yes, he did not bring anyone else. Said it was 'unnecessary'._

Thea felt her stomach knot, but whether from anger or sadness she could not tell. _Let him know we're all right, will you?_

_Are you two going to fight?_

_That depends on him._

_Uh oh._

Rather than go down that path Thea turned her attention to the unusually quiet Bevil. "What in the nine hells happened in there?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out," he said. "The shard, he had it around his neck on some kind of leather cord. It just lifted off his chest, literally just came _up_ off his chest like it was being _pulled_ toward you. What the hell does that mean?"

She thought about the answering tug she'd felt in her chest. "I don't know. But I plan on getting some answers."

"Thea," he said, stopping. She turned to face him, keeping her distance. "Why does that shard hurt you? What _happened_? What _is_ this thing?"

She held a hand up to stop his words. "I don't know for certain. We have all of this other stuff happening and Daeghun is almost here-"

"Daeghun!?"

She opened her mouth to respond but Brom's greeting cry interrupted her. Daeghun emerged from the swamp with the hawk. She had not heard so much as a footfall as he'd approached. Brom landed on her outstretched arm and the weight of him was like coming home.

"I am glad you managed to escape unharmed," he said. "I trust you've retrieved the shard?"

"The_ shard?_" Bevil's voice rose behind her. She had never heard him sound this angry. "We almost _died_ in there!"

"But you did not," Daeghun replied calmly.

"Your daughter almost _died_! Don't you care about her at _all_?"

"Of course I do, Bevil. As do you, apparently. But we have precious little time to discuss our feelings. There are matters that we must attend to now or we put the lives of the villagers at stake."

"We have the shard," Thea said. "But I can't touch it. I can't even go near it."

"Please explain this."

"I can't stand this," Bevil muttered under his breath, his voice quivering with restrained anger. She could hear the soles of his boots pulling at the mud as he paced.

"It's all right, Bevil" she replied soothingly. "Father, the shard, it … it hurts me." She was surprised that she had nearly said _pulls_.

Daeghun remained quiet for a moment, as if considering what to tell her.

"I want answers," she said firmly.

"Where is it?"

"I have it," Bevil answered.

"We must head back to the village," Daeghun said. "I will tell you all I can on the way." Though she could not hear Daeghun's footfalls, the slightest pressure against her arm from Brom's claws told her which direction to go. Behind her, Bevil followed them, his steps heavy with anger.

"When your mother died," Daeghun began, his voice weary, "She was standing in front of you, trying to protect you. When we found her, she had been run through by one of those shards."

Thea could hardly breathe as she listened. He had never told her much about her mother's death, only that she died during the terrible battle in West Harbor years before. She was almost afraid to make any sound for fear that it would stem the flow of words.

"The shard must have passed through her…and into you. When we found you after the battle, you had a wound in your chest. It was all Brother Merrill could do to keep you alive. He wasn't able to remove the shard from your body."

"But what's happening exactly? Why is there pain when the shard is near?"

"I'm not entirely certain," he said. "But I suspect they may be trying to merge."

It was a moment before Thea could find her voice. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"What would that have accomplished? In truth, I suspect it would have done more harm than good. I felt it best to concentrate on your immediate needs, which at the time were many."

"I'm sorry I was such a burden to you," she said. The words came out more biting than she had intended and filled with an embarrassing measure of self-pity. She felt more than heard Daeghun stop. She turned to face him. Though she fought the sting of tears, her face remained stony.

"It is true that you were a burden to me," he said matter-of-factly. She heard Bevil gasp at his words. "However, it was a burden that I gladly took. And you have been a joy to know, child."

"You cold bastard!" she heard Bevil cry, his voice tight with fury.

"Bevil, I have tried to be patient with you," Daeghun said with an edge to his voice. "These are things that do not concern you and it would be prudent if you kept your comments to yourself."

"You're wrong. They _do_ concern me," Bevil responded. "I'm her friend."

"I know you love her, Bevil, but these are family matters-"

"_Family matters_? _My_ family has been more of a _family_ to her than _you've _ever been!" Bevil was so angry he was nearly sputtering. "Where did she go to eat and sit at the hearth in the evenings? Who baked cakes for her birthday? It was _my_ _mother_ who taught her to cook, who she ran to for kisses when she skinned her knee!"

Thea's breath caught in her throat. She had secretly depended on Retta far too much and it was embarrassing to have those moments of weakness paraded in front of Daeghun so thoroughly. The memories felt shameful to her now; all the times she had told Daeghun she was going into the forest only to run to the Starling house for tea and treats. The guilt of those small lies was terrible, but her life had felt full when she was there, tumbling about with Bevil and the dogs, listening to Retta's hilarious stories, eating pie until she was so full she could do nothing but lie on the rug in front of the cheery fire and groan.

"Do you honestly think," Daeghun replied in a quiet voice, "that I did not know where my daughter was all those evenings?" His voice was so full of sadness that its tone shocked her as much as his words. He turned toward her, taking her arm lightly and continuing on the path to town. After a moment, she heard Bevil trudging noisily behind them. "Thea, you must leave West Harbor. _Today_. You must take the shard with you. Go to my half-brother in Neverwinter. His name is Duncan. Tell him that you need to have the shards looked at."

"I can't carry the shard," she reminded him.

"I have a bag you can take with you. Put the shard in that bag and you should not feel any discomfort."

They walked in silence until Thea could recognize the scent of the farms on the outskirts of town. Even the stench of smoke could not completely hide the green smell of growing things or the woody scent of the dewy earth beneath. She breathed it all in. _All of this, all of this is at stake_, she thought.

"I'm going to check on Mother and the kids," Bevil said suddenly. Then all she could hear was the sound of him trotting away.

"The shard-" she started to say, but Daeghun laid a hand on her arm.

"Let him go" he said. "You will be able to retrieve the shard from him later. You cannot carry it now anyway."

The walk back home felt surreal to her. The whole town felt different to her suddenly, smelled different. Was it only yesterday that she had gotten into her bedclothes and curled up under the covers to sleep? She could still smell that sleep-scent: warm skin and exhaled breath. Brom groomed himself on his perch as he waited for her to gather her belongings for the trip. But she had very little to gather. She stood there, in her armor, breathing in familiarity, breathing in _home_. All the things she wanted to take with her, they could not fit in a bag. How do you carry the floors whose every creak you've memorized? How do you carry the feel of the window sill warmed by the morning sun? How do you carry the playful shove of a friend likely already buried?

Daeghun cleared his throat to announce his presence. "Do you have everything you need for the trip?"

"I think so, yes. Not much to take. I should be back in a few weeks."

"It would not be wise for you to return," he replied sadly.

"Not return? I am not welcome here any longer?"

"If those creatures were indeed looking for the shard-"

"-then my presence endangers the town," she whispered.

Daeghun nodded. "I do not think the danger has passed. I have told the others that you are attending to an errand for me. I made it a point to suggest that you would be taking the high road to Neverwinter, but that is not the road you are to take. Travel instead to Highcliff and take one of the many boats there to the Neverwinter port."

"I can never come home," Thea said, mostly to herself. She thought that maybe saying the words out loud would make them more real, but it still seemed ludicrous that she would not be back in a few weeks to lay in her bed, to run through these woods, to sit by Retta's hearth.

"Never is a long time," Daeghun said gently. "Take this bag to Bevil. Have him put the shard in it."

As she took the bag from his outstretched hand, he pulled her into a stiff embrace. "You are intelligent and resourceful," he told her. "You will be fine. Now go see Bevil. I'm sure you two have much to say to each other before you leave."

She nodded numbly and headed out to the Starling farm with Brom on her shoulder, stopping only once to breathe deeply of home and hearth and land. But she did not look back.

***

The Starling farm, usually bustling with the cheery sound of children playing and people working the land, was uncharacteristically silent as she walked up to the door. The knowledge that she would not be returning made her feel like a stranger. Instead of bursting in as she usually would have done, she knocked softly before entering, calling Bevil's name.

Retta came out to greet her. "I'm so glad you're all right! I was so worried. Oh gods, poor Amy…You hardly seem complete without her and Bevil at your side." Her deep and loving hug nearly brought Thea to tears. She hugged Retta tighter for a moment, and then pulled away a bit to compose herself. She could not let on that her trip was anything more than an errand for Daeghun.

"Where's Bevil?"

"He said he was going into the barn to check on the horses."

Thea nodded and with one last hug from the woman who had been the only mother she had ever known, she made her way out to the barn. Part of it had been burned. She could smell the singed wood, musty hay, and the animal smell of the horses. She heard Bevil moving about, the sound of his movements so familiar that she could choose him out of the crowd of marching men during militia training. She would never hear those familiar sounds again, or smell his familiar scent. The thought made her heart ache so badly that she had to lean against the wall. She stood there for a moment, just listening, trying to memorize the sound of him. She heard him grunt with exertion, then the sound of a bale of hay landing in the dirt. She could probably stand there all day and he would not notice. He was the most concrete person she had ever met, utterly oblivious to innuendo and subtlety. If it was not right in front of him, it was a good bet he didn't see it. Gods, it was going to be difficult to say good bye to him. She composed herself and called out his name.

She waited for the usually cheery sound of his voice, but he said nothing, just stood there, breathing heavily. She felt strangely awkward as she approached.

"I brought the bag-"

"Toss it to me," he cut her off. The sharpness of his tone made her stop. She could smell his sweat. That too was familiar from their time spent training together. She tossed the bag to him and heard him catch it. A moment later he tossed it back at her. It felt empty.

"Its inside," he responded to her puzzled expression. She heard him resume his work.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" When he didn't respond, she approached him and reached out to grab his arm. Instead, she laid her hand on his wet bare back. It had the same effect. She felt his muscles tense.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked softly without turning around. "Not just on a trip, but for good."

She could not bring herself to lie to him. "I have to. I'm putting everyone in danger if I stay."

He stayed silent for a long while. She thought he might ask her to just go, to not make this any harder, but instead he turned and hugged her fiercely. All the emotions that had been bubbling in her heart began to boil over. She buried her face against his bare chest, ran her hands up and down his drenched back.

"I love you," he said, wrapping her up tight in his arms and crushing her to him.

"Come with me! We could go together! You always said you wanted to see Neverwinter…"

He pulled the leather strap from her hair releasing a cascade of gold down her back. He buried his hands in it, still holding her tight against him. "I can't," he whispered desperately. "Gods, I _want_ to but I _can't_."

She pulled away a little and touched his damp face with her fingertips. "_Please_ Bev." She hated the desperate tone in her voice. It made her feel vulnerable. But, to hells with it, she _felt_ vulnerable. The thought of never seeing him again _hurt_, moreso even than not seeing Daeghun.

He shook his head. "I can't," he said in a pained voice. "We lost a lot of people last night. If those things come back…I can't leave Ma and the kids alone. I can't do it no matter how much I want to be with you. They need me."

She wanted to cry out, to rage, to somehow make him change his mind, but she knew he was right. If those things came back, Retta and the others would not stand much of a chance without him. They had lost so many of the militia in the attack. She laid her head against his chest and listened to his racing heart.

"If anything changes here," he said quietly, kissing the top her head. "If I _know_ that it's safe for them to be here without me, I'll come find you."

She could only nod.

"When must you leave?"

"Now…"

"This isn't good bye, Thea."

"Ok. All right." She knew it was a lie, something said to make the bitter pill of their parting easier to swallow. She pulled away from him, had to or she would not be able to leave. She shoved the ache down until it felt like the buried shard in her chest weighed a thousand pounds. When she could trust her voice again, she said, "Then I will say that I will see you soon, Bev."

He said nothing but she could feel his heavy stare.

"Soon, all right?"

"All right."

Then she ran. Ran out of the barn, out of the town, and eventually, out of breath, trading everything she had known and loved for the muddy pitted road to Highcliff and an uncertain future.


	6. A Dwarf By Any Other Name

Twilight in the Mere was alive with the sounds of its inhabitants. Usually, Thea delighted in the myriad of smells and sounds here. The Mere had its own rhythm, a musical accompaniment to rituals of life: food, mating, and death. But in the two days since she'd left West Harbor, she'd felt more exhausted than she'd ever felt and found it difficult to lose herself in it. It wasn't so bad during the day. At least then she could focus on the physical act of putting one foot in front of the other. But at night, when thoughts scurried about her mind like mice trapped in a cupboard, rest eluded her. So she pushed on to reach the Weeping Willow Inn before high watch, hoping that a hot meal and warm bed might ease her mind enough to allow for some rest.

The sound of voices was a welcome distraction. Though she could not make out any words yet, the gruff and lilting accent piqued her curiosity: it was undeniably dwarven. She had never actually met a dwarf before, though she'd been around a few when she did trading in her father's stead.

As she and Brom neared, the voices became clearer.

"Now that we're outside," she heard the dwarf say. "Maybe you'd like to tell me what you said again. _Slowly_ this time, so you can _think_ about what you're saying."

"You're a small one to be taking this road all by yourself, dwarf. Maybe you've come looking for trouble, unless you have a little _coin_ to convince us otherwise." The last word was followed by the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn.

In a heartbeat, Thea's bow was in her hands, an arrow knocked. A quick calculation and her arrow flew and clanged against the broad side of the sword. "I missed on purpose," she said, stepping out from the shadowed tree-line.

"This doesn't concern you, elf. This is between _us_ and the _dwarf_. And whatever _coin_ he happens to have with him."

"Ah you're welcome to try to take it, if you're all game. You can't _all_ be frightened of one little dwarf, can you? If you're afraid of being humiliated in front of the elf here, well, now I can understand that."

"We're not frightened of either of you. And it seems to me you need to learn a lesson."

"Come _on_," the dwarf said. "Someone try to _hit_ me already. Even the newcomer here sees that you're all too afraid to do anything."

"Enough of this," one of the bandits said. "Let's deal with the dwarf and his friend."

Immediately after firing the first warning shot, Thea had knocked another arrow. This one was no warning. She heard the thud of a bandit hitting the ground screaming wetly about his ruined knee.

To her right were the sounds of a scuffle as the dwarf took on the bandit that had been closest to him. "Now this is more like it!" he roared. She heard the meaty sound of a fist connecting with flesh and bone.

That left one more but she could not hear where he was. _Brom!_ She turned left and right, arrow knocked, anticipating an attack but not knowing from which direction. _Where is he?_

_I can't see him!_ Brom replied. Then suddenly,_ behind you!_

Thea turned just as the roaring bandit barreled into her, sending her bow and arrow skittering across the ground. He was much larger than she expected, and heavier. The momentum rolled them across on the ground. They finally came to a stop with him on top. Rough hands closed around her throat. He grunted with rage, sputtering obscenities and spittle in equal measure. For a moment, the pressure released from her neck and she coughed violently. Then a fist connected with her face, knocking her head back and scattering her thoughts. There was a sharp familiar cry – _Brom!_ – then the weight of the bandit was suddenly gone and she scrambled back. The bandit was screaming, "My nose!"

In a moment, Thea was on her feet again. She had gathered her bearings enough to know where to kick. The bandit's screams turned to choked grunts.

As she stood panting, the dwarf walked up to her, laughed and clapped her on the back. "Well now, _that_ was a good fight!" he said. "A shame they had to resort to weapons, but if they have to keep the odds even, can't blame them too much."

She heard him spit heavily. "Have to admit, wasn't expecting an elf to come along - or to pitch in like that. Name's Khelgar, by the way - of the Clan Ironfist. Been making my way along the Coast for some time now. Stopped in the Willow here for a brief fight."

For a moment, she considered correcting his assumption about her heritage, but decided against it. "You do realize those men were trying to kill you…?"

"Yeah, it's a shame. I was just looking to trade a few punches then share a drink when it was all done. Either way, they got my coin, the way I saw it."

Thea shook her head. "We'd better take care of the other one-"

"The first one you shot?" The dwarf laughed. "He's long gone, lass."

With a sigh, Thea gathered her bow and arrow from the tall grass. The blood trickling from her nose was making the mask sticky and uncomfortable. She ran her fingertips over the bow, inspecting it for damage as she walked toward the inn.

The dwarf marched up next to her, his leather armor creaking loudly with every step. "So tell me, what brings you out along the Mere? Roads aren't exactly safe, you know. And they're getting worse all the time."

She was too exhausted and uncomfortable to think of a suitable lie. Surely she was not the only person en route to that particular city. "I'm on my way to Neverwinter."

"Seems it's your lucky day then. I happen to be travelling to Neverwinter as well. "

"Really? Why's that?"

"Now _that's_ a tale – glad you asked. But I can't discuss it without a tankard or two, I think. I say we step inside the Weeping Willow here and share our stories over a few of the innkeeper's best."

She stopped and considered the dwarf. Though her head ached and her eye throbbed, Thea was too intrigued by him to say no. Besides, the idea of being alone with the lonely thoughts that buzzed in her head was not appealing in the least. She bid Brom get himself something to eat and told him to meet her at dawn. With a flutter of wings, Brom took off from a nearby branch. "Tell you what, good dwarf: let me get cleaned up and I'll meet you in the great room. I could use a tankard or two."

"Or _ten_," Khelgar chuckled. "You _do_ have a pretty fine shiner there, lass."

* * *

"…so then I punched him in the face for asking and while he was trying to pick his teeth off the floor his friend decided to add a few choice words about my heritage, so I punched him too."

Thea snorted with laughter. Pulling her mask up just enough to take a swig of the bitter brew, she nearly spilled some down the front of her tunic. Two tankards and already her head spun. She hadn't drank like this since that time Amy had stolen some of Tarmac's wine…but no, she didn't want to think of Amy right now, or of Bevil, or any of West Harbor for that matter. Finishing off this tankard should buy her the first decent night's sleep she'd had in two days.

"So to make a long story short, I take pride in what I do – fighting. It's something you can't get enough of and it's something where there's always room for improvement if you apply yourself, stay focused, and keep swinging." He took a long swig of his fifth tankard. "That's why I'm headed to Neverwinter. I heard there's a house of monks there, a _mon_-_uh_-_stary_, right? Heard they'll train anyone, just for the asking. Couldn't ask for a better opportunity."

"Why Neverwinter? There must be plenty of monasteries around."

"If you know of a closer one that'll train for free, well, I'm all ears. Just as long as I get that monk training."

"A monk," Thea snickered. The idea sounded so…_preposterous._

"Aye, that's the short of it."

"Isn't that an odd choice for a dwarf?"

"No stranger than half of what takes place in Faerûn, I can tell you that."

"Good point."

"As it happens, I didn't _always_ want to become a monk." He leaned in closer, as if he were about to tell her a secret. "What happened was-"

The front door of the inn flew off its hinges amidst the clang of twisted bolts and the crack of splintered wood. A familiar raspy voice called to its cohorts: "The _Kalach-Cha_! Find it!"

Khelgar set down his tankard and chuckled. "Well, look at this - our next round of practice just arrived."

_No no no! Not now!_ Thea staggered to her feet and helped Khelgar shove the table over as a rain of crossbow bolts bit into the wood. Her bow was in her room. Thank the gods she had brought her scimitars. Though drunk as she was, she was probably just as much of a danger to the patrons of the inn as the creatures that had just blasted through the front door.

"Time for a little fun!" Already Khelgar was bolting over the table and into the fray. She cursed herself for indulging and tried to focus, pulling the scimitars from their sheaths.

She staggered out from behind the cover of the table only to nearly slip in a puddle of ale. Somehow, she managed to block the sword that tried to cleave her in two. She leaned in and ran the beast through with her offhand. All around her, the sound of battle was deafening. It was difficult to concentrate on any one sound.

"Watch out, lass!" she heard Khelgar cry. Not knowing which direction the attack was coming from, she threw herself down onto the hard wood floor as the burn of a blade sliced her arm from shoulder to elbow. Using her other hand, she brought the scimitar up and out, slicing into what she hoped was the thing's body. A hot, wet mess that felt oddly like stew splattered across her chest as the creature fell on top of her. Retching and sliding in the thing's slippery, smelly entrails, she rolled until she felt something solid at her back. A quick inspection with her hand told her it was another overturned table.

She felt someone reaching for her and brought the scimitar in her good hand up to defend herself.

"Hey now! Hey! Easy there." It was the dwarf. She brought the weapon down and groaned in pain.

A thick, hairy hand helped her up. "That's a nasty one you got there, lass," Khelgar said.

She could smell the dwarf's blood as he pulled her to her feet. "You're hurt, too."

"Meh," he grunted. "I've had bug bites that've hurt more."

"Help!" The woman's shrill voice startled them. Her heavy footfalls were unsteady and panicked. "Help me!" She came to a skittering halt to Thea's right. "Please-" she panted. "My husband-he's trapped up there. One of those _things_." She struggled to catch her breath. "Second floor."

Thea turned to go up but Khelgar stopped her. "I'll go. You need to have that sewn. "

"I'll go with you, good dwarf!" a gruff unfamiliar male voice called. Probably one of the other patrons.

"I'll get some dressings," said another. Thea recognized the voice as that of the barkeep they had ordered from earlier.

"But-"

"No, lass. You're drunk and hurt and you won't do anybody any good dying tonight." With that, the dwarf turned and ran up to the second floor.

* * *

The wound was deepest at the shoulder where the blade had bit first. Thea winced as the barkeep sewed it shut as best she could. Each prick of the needle felt like a firebrand against the raw edges of flesh.

As painful as it was, more painful still was the injury to her pride. Still somewhat drunk, her mirth had turned to gloom as she considered the fact that she'd been beaten up twice in one day. There wasn't an inch of her that didn't ache. Her eye throbbed, her throat hurt, and now her offhand was pretty much useless. All this and she hadn't even made it out of the Mere. For the first time since this whole thing started, Thea began to wonder if she would even _survive_ the excursion to Neverwinter. _Not at this rate_, she thought grimly. Meeting the dwarf had been fortuitous and the fact that he was headed to the same city bordered on fate. Apparently, she needed all the help she could get.

Khelgar returned a few minutes after the barkeep had begun sewing her up, all booming voice and gruff laughter. He and the man who had volunteered to help had apparently made quick work of the creatures upstairs. They had the woman's husband in tow, badly frightened but unhurt and enthusiastically grateful. The old man's luck seemed to bolster everyone's spirit. Many of the patrons were now straightening the upended tables and chairs and talking excitedly about what had happened.

"What _were_ those things?" she heard someone ask.

"I've never seen anything like that," another answered. "The Mere is getting worse by the day and patrols haven't been through here in weeks!"

"That should keep it closed," the barkeep - whose name she'd discovered was Arlith – said to her as she stood. "Just don't do too much with that arm, girl, or you'll undo all the stitching."

Thea nodded and headed to her room. Since she couldn't be useful , she figured the least she could do was get out of the way. Her door was still locked which hopefully meant her things had not been disturbed. _At least that_, she thought glumly.

After gathering a fresh tunic and leggings from her pack, she headed around to the back of the inn, hopeful of finding a bucket and some water to clean herself up with. As she suspected, there was a well a stone's throw from the inn and an adequately sized bucket at the end of its rope. She began the tedious process of cleaning the gore from her clothes and weapons.

A few minutes into her ministrations, she heard the back door to the inn fly open. "There you are!" Khelgar laughed. "The barkeep is offering a free round to all the heros," he told her jovially.

"Great," she said without enthusiasm.

"What's wrong? Don't you want a bit of the hair of the dog that bit ya?"

"I can barely stand up straight," she said. "And I'm no hero. I'm just a local tracker."

"Heh, don't talk nonsense, lass. Of course you're a hero! You were in the thick of it as much as anyone there."

"All I managed to _do_ is get my ass kicked," she sighed. "Though I do appreciate you trying to make me feel better."

"Make you feel better?" he sputtered. "You took out two of those things! Sure, your footwork _was_ a bit messy and you _did_ take that nasty spill. And of course-"

"Thanks, Khelgar. I feel so much better now."

"You know what I mean to say," he huffed. "Sure, you were drunk -though how that could happen from just two little tankards is beyond me but then you elves are a bit less _hearty_ than us dwarves – but still, you did all right for yourself."

"I'm lucky I didn't get myself _killed_."

"When you get into a fight like that, lass, you don't ever really know how it'll turn out, right? You just keep on swinging until it's over. Besides, since it looks like we'll be travelling together, maybe we can learn a thing or two from each other." Khelgar seemed distracted by the sounds of merriment wafting through the back door of the inn. "Hey why do you suppose those things were there anyway?"

"I have no idea," Thea lied, and she was too tired to care about it at the moment. "Go on and have your 'hair of the dog'", she told the dwarf. "I'm just too bloody tired. I plan to head out in the morning so if you want to travel with me-"

Khelgar laughed as he turned and headed back to the inn. "I'll be ready, don't you worry."

Back in her room, Thea pulled out her map and ran her fingers along the slightly raised ink looking for the next stop on the way to Highcliff. It seemed that the closest town between this inn and the port town was a place called Fort Locke, about a week's travel. _Sounds military, _she thought as she put her map away. _Like the kind of place that might know how to get blood out of a stained tunic_.


	7. Trust the Tail

Fort Locke was a dismal, muddy place and one got the impression that it would be dismal and muddy even when it wasn't raining incessantly. They'd been here three days now trying to wait out the rain. While Khelgar busied himself with attempting to drink all the ale in the little town and Brom stretched his wings and found a meal, Thea decided to finally venture outside despite the weather and familiarize herself with the area.

Most of the town was made up of sturdy wooden structures, hardly more than huts. There was a practical air about their long, low compact shapes. The ground was rutted and misshapen from the constant traffic of wagons and devoid of any grass or trees within the perimeter of enormous pine wall. Here and there, however, Thea caught the lovely green scent of small personal gardens.

The people seemed much like the houses: practical and self-contained. They bustled about the town in a practiced way that said they were attending to daily chores, but underneath Thea detected an air of nervous expectation. Listening to idle talk, she had learned that a worryingly growing number of townsfolk had gone missing recently, among them Commander Tann, the fort's leader. Tann's lieutenant, a man named Vallis, had taken command and he was not well liked. His first act as interim commander had been to halt the patrols on the road leaving innocent travelers unprotected, an act which seemed callous at best. Though she and Khelgar had had more or less an uneventful journey, many others had not been so fortunate. The townsfolk whispered of bandits, cut-throats and worse.

"Thea? Thea Thurin?"

The voice startled her out of her thoughts and it took her a moment to recognize it. It had been a long time since she'd heard that voice. "Cormick?"

"Gods, I knew it! I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Thea laughed as Cormick pulled her into a quick embrace. "I haven't heard hide nor hair of you since you went to find your fame and fortune in the big city," she said in mock hurt.

"Aye, and have you come to follow suit? Truth be told, I always felt you were destined for more than our poor little West Harbor could offer. But come, let's get out of this rain and let me buy you a drink. No, it will not do to say no," he said to her shaking head as he led her to the inn. "I want to hear all about the old place. Are Bevil and Amy here with you?"

The mention of their names, so casual, broke her heart. "No…"

"Let's get out of this rain," he said softly, recognizing the sorrow in her voice. "And we can talk about it if you wish."

They settled themselves at a table and he ordered a round of ale. From the serving girl's warm greeting, it was obvious that Cormick's natural charisma had worked its magic even in this gloomy town.

"What happened?" he said softly.

"There was an attack…"

"On West Harbor? But who? And why?"

"I don't know yet. Not completely. But I aim to find out." She took a gulp of ale to steady her voice. "There's fear of another attack. Bevil's part of the militia. He had to stay. We lost so many, Cormick. So many. Amy didn't make it."

"Gods…I'm so sorry," he whispered. "What shadow has fallen across Faerün? In these dark times, I've often thought West Harbor a quiet, peaceful place, but even there….It seems that nowhere is safe. By now I'm sure you've heard the rumors here."

"Some."

"The people are afraid and Lieutenant Vallis seems completely out of touch. He's stopped the patrols and refuses to look for the missing people. He claims his actions are meant to protect his men, but I don't know…that makes no sense to me. These men knew the risks when they signed up. The whole reason we're here is to protect the people. "

"What about Commander Tann? How did he go missing?"

"He took a group out to try and locate the missing townsfolk. They never returned. Once he was gone, Vallis simply locked down the town. He won't even send anyone to look for them."

"Tann's disappearance is fortuitous for the lieutenant."

"Quite, but it's not something you want to say out loud."

"My friend and I could take a look around for you. "

"People are disappearing, old friend. I couldn't send you out there like that. Besides," he said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Daeghun would kill me if anything happened to you."

"You wouldn't be 'sending me out there'. I'm _choosing_ to go. I'm not a child any more, Cormick."

"I'm sorry. I meant no offense. I would be grateful if you could look around, just…be extra careful. Something tells me there is more going on here than meets the eye. There's no telling what you'll find."

"There never is," Thea muttered, finishing off the last of her ale.

* * *

The rain had finally stopped and Thea had spent the better part of the next morning trying to convince Khelgar to postpone continuing on to Neverwinter and investigate the disappearances. She tried to appeal to his sense of altruism with limited success before she realized she had been going about it all wrong.

"You're probably right," she said with a shrug. "We should move on. Besides, I bet we'd run into a heap of trouble looking for the missing captain."

"Trouble you say? As in fightin'?"

"Oh yes, I'd imagine so. I mean, whoever could keep the captain prisoner would have to be pretty formidable. Not someone we'd want to get into a fight with."

"Now wait just a minute. You know we can't just leave with the fellow missing 'n all."

"I don't know…"

"Lass, I insist we go an' look for them people." He set his tankard down heavily. "It's the right thing to do."

"I suppose we could take a look around," she replied, smirking into her mug.

A few hours later, deep into the surrounding area, Thea stopped and sniffed the air. It was rich with vivid scents. The intermittent drizzle was like a mist, trapping aromas like an invisible net and the ranger had caught a whiff of something peculiar.

"What're ye doing, lass?"

"Don't you smell that?"

"Everything just smells wet," he grumbled darkly. "What're ye smelling?"

"I – I don't know. I've never smelled anything like it. But it's stronger this way…"

Thea followed the scent, which seemed to meander a bit, before her ears picked up voices. She put her hand out to stop Khlegar's advance. "You hear them?" she whispered.

"Aye but –"

"Shhhh. Quietly now. We don't want to ruin our advantage."

They moved closer and listened.

" – there's that small matter of those bounties on bandits Vallis posted," a deep voice said. She recognized the mocking tone of a bully. "And a bandit with demon blood, well, there's no telling how much that's worth."

"I told you," said a female voice. "I'm not with those bandits – or are you deaf _and_ stupid?"

"Stupid? " Another lower-pitched male voice. "And here we were thinking of letting you live. Now you've gone and changed our minds."

Before Thea could stop him, Khelgar burst past her into the clearing. "What do we have here?" she heard him say. "Sounds to me like a couple of bullies!"

With a mental groan, she readied her bow and knocked an arrow and followed.

"Hold on, look at _this_. A half-elf and a dwarf. Maybe friends of hers."

"Leave her alone," Thea said simply. "Or I'll shoot you through your eye."

"This don't concern you," said the first voice, sounding a bit unnerved by Thea's calm threat. "We're soldiers from Fort Locke hunting bandits."

"We caught this demon trying to raid our camp and we were about to deal with her," said the other.

"By killing her?" Khelgar scoffed. "Doesn't sound like something a soldier would do."

"What did she take?" Thea asked.

"Nothing yet but her crew's been hounding these parts. They been raiding merchants, caravans – maybe even killed the old commander."

"I told you I'm not with those bandits!" the girl protested, sounding for her part more irritated than frightened.

"Shut your lying mouth, demon. You'll get the blade soon enough."

"I won't let you murder her in cold blood," Thea said, drawing the arrow back.

"You think you're going to stop us, do you?"

"You know," said his companion conspiratorially. "Vallis might pay for three bandit bounties. He's not one for asking questions."

"Especially about a demon, a runty dwarf and a swamp wench who doesn't know enough to keep walking."

"Runty dwarf? I know you cowards aren't talking to me or you'll be talking to my fist next."

"One more time: walk away or I'll kill you," Thea said. Their pompous tones spoke of men who didn't scruple to murder a defenseless and outnumbered girl. Their sense of entitlement sickened her. She felt the anger blooming hot in her chest and her fingers itched to let the arrow fly.

The first soldier she had heard speak was to her right and her arrow was trained on the one to the left. She could feel the size different in them, a sense of weight where they stood towering over the girl between them.

She felt rather than heard the one on the right move toward her. Immediately she shifted her aim and shot him through the cheek. He staggered, screamed and scrambled away, right into Khelgar's waiting fist. Thea heard the meaty sound of melee battle and turned to face the other who was strangely quiet. It took her a moment to realize he was already dead. She could feel the girl's eyes on her and hear the sound of the girl wiping her dagger clean. _Not so defenseless after all_, Thea thought, smirking. By the time she turned back to help Khelgar, he was already walking toward them leaving the still form of the 'soldier' face down in the wet grass.

"Where did you come from?" the girl asked, her voice jovial and friendly. "I mean, one moment I thought I was dead and then suddenly you're here! And look at all this blood!" She walked up and Thea realized the peculiar scent she'd been following was coming from her. "I guess that's what they get for underestimating an elf eh? Last mistake they'll make. You _are_ an elf under that mask, aren't you? I can tell by the pointy ears. But your eyes say 'human' so I'm guessing you're a half-elf, right? I'm babbling aren't I?"

"A bit," Thea laughed. The girl spoke so fast that she was out of breath now. She was funny and her voice was so friendly and light-hearted that Thea liked her immediately.

"Sorry if I sound surprised. It's just, you know, people don't usually help me out like that. Especially, uh, well, people like you, you know? _Nice_ looking people. Does that make me a damsel in distress? I hope not. I hate those women. I'm Neeshka, by the way. I'm really glad you came when you did. I wasn't sure how I'd get out of that one. They never would have caught me if that invisibility potion hadn't been watered down. If I ever see that merchant again…"

"What happened here?" she asked the girl as Khelgar joined them.

"Well, I was actually trying to pass the Fort by, make my way farther south. I thought that potion I bought would help. You see, once the local garrisons see me they tend to want to throw me in a cell or attack me on sight. I think it's the horns. Of course the potion wears off _just_ as I cross paths with those thugs from Fort Locke. They were looking for easy bounties and I showed up _right_ on time."

"But that's no reason for them to want to kill you."

"Or us," the dwarf added.

"It's been that way ever since the new Fort commander posted bounties on bandits. Some of his soldiers have been hunting anyone they find on the road and claiming they're 'bandits'. It's just banditry of a different sort. They rob the travelers and then get the bounty, too. The roads are even less safe now than they were before."

"Really? Hmmm. We're staying in Fort Locke for now."

"Do you – do you think I could join you? Just for now! I won't get in the way, I promise. It's just that I don't know how long I can survive on my own and – well, I do owe you one."

"Oh no no no," Khelgar shook his head. "We don't want no backstabbin' demon girl anywhere near us."

"Khelgar! I'm surprised at you." She turned to Neeshka: "Are you really a demon?"

"Technically I'm a _tiefling_," Neeshka replied. Thea could tell the emphasis was aimed at the dwarf. "My father was from the lower planes."

Thea almost commented on the girl's scent but decided that probably wouldn't make the best impression, so instead she nodded. "Well met, Neeshka. I would be glad to have you accompany us."

"Wow, you're nice! I don't mean to sound so surprised but, well, I _am_. People usually see the horns and tail and then it's all 'Kill the demon' _this_ and 'Death to the demon' _that_. Like dwarfy here."

"Oh so now I'm 'dwarfy' eh? I've a name, goat girl."

"Khelgar," Thea warned. "Be nice."

"But she going to steal our stuff! Everybody knows tieflings are lying, scamming, no-good, thieving-"

"Please excuse my friend. He's tends to forget that he, too, was a stranger when we first met. I, for one, will not turn down an offer of help."

"What are you guys up to?"

"We're trying to find the missing captain," Thea said and gave the tiefling a brief rundown of the situation.

"Oh. Well, I _do_ know where those bandits are, the real ones, the ones that have been attacking the merchants. I suppose we could start there."

"Aha! See? I thought she said she didn't know them! She's leading us into an ambush, I'm telling you."

"I said I wasn't _with_ them, stubby. _Totally_ different thing."

Thea couldn't know for sure whether Neeshka actually winked at her or not, but she thought that she probably had.


End file.
